The Night of the Living Dead
by Bye11
Summary: "The night is dark and full of terrors but the fire burns them all away" (George R.R. Martin). A post 5x22 story


**A/N: I don't know where this came from. I haven't watched GG's this season, just read the recaps and I haven't written in forever but still, since this came out I thought I would share it with you. **

**English is not my first language and so I apologize in advance for the mistakes you'll find. Also, I don't own GG, because otherwise I would be living in NY, not dreaming about it. **

She was chatting with Dan as they were waiting for their meal but something was amiss. Lately she had become fond of their bantering, of the sense of freedom the relationship provided. She had relished the feeling of being cherished by someone whose brain she had always (if sometimes secretly) admired. She had felt powerful at the idea that she could entertain a completely adult relationship, without games or oppressive royal rules. She had looked herself in the mirror that day and felt ready to recover the true identity of The Blair Waldorf and to mold it with her newly-found adulthood.

Except it hadn't worked out that way. Because, sure, the NJBC(and Serena light) had observed the one and only Queen B, the perfect mix of wit, intelligence, sarcasm and scheming methodologies and yes, she had felt like she had achieved her task of being both the old and the new Blair. But it was all a lie, a false sense of security. She was in Brooklyn with Dan, Dan who was in love with her, Dan who had not looked devastated at the prospect of losing the scholarship in Italy because it meant staying with her, Dan who had been her support throughout the year, Dan who had told her those three elusive little words, Dan who would expect something in return. Up until this morning, when the new Blair Waldorf was the only one present, this Dan had been her favorite person in the world, the one she had left others for, the one that could complement her in their quest for success. Up until that morning, Blair would have probably reciprocated her feelings, or at least said something different than a sterile "I know now", something that would reassure him of her feelings for him.

Tonight, it was all different. Tonight, she couldn't anymore. Tonight her emotional strength was focused on forgetting the images that kept replaying in her head. Chuck on her bed, his eyes bloodshot, tears still on his boyish face, and that look of absolute and total trust in her, that look that begged silently to bring him back from the edge because she was the only one who could. Chuck taken away from his limo, the drugs in his system too many to remember, the piercing sensation in her heart that he didn't have enough courage to face this, the acute fear that she could lose him in the immediate future. Chuck in her elevator, peonies in his hand, asking for her forgiveness with a look so child-like she had for a second forgotten she couldn't let him get away with everything. Not now that she had put him back together. Finally, the oak door opening, Bart there, living, breathing, talking. How could she even begin to explain that to Dan? How could her brain find the words to express why her eyes had immediately filled up with tears? How could she tell her new, undamaged boyfriend that it could not be true, that she couldn't imagine why any father would put his child through that? How could she convey that the only real word she would have like to say was a simple but poignant why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Her brain kept chanting maybe to avoid opening the other Pandora's box.

"How on earth does Chuck always end up in these absurd situations? I am a writer and I have lived in this world for five years now but I keep getting surprised."

Dan chuckled and looked at her in a loving way. Mistake, big mistake, he should not have brought up Chuck. Because the thought that she kept pushing away, the one she did not want to indulge in, was that he had followed her indication and thus Chuck Bass had discovered by now that Bart was alive and that somewhere in her city he was facing the aftermath. On his own. Alone. Vulnerable, an easy prey of his hidden emotional instability. She wondered if he would call her if he felt too much, too soon, if he would reach out to her if the burden felt unbearable. She wondered in silence while she smiled uneasily at Dan. Her boyfriend was a celebrated novelist, he would know that something in her wasn't the same as this morning but he could never imagine that ghosts did exist and that of course, ghosts had destroyed Chuck Bass' world all over again. He would attribute her sour mood to Chuck, he would be jealous but at the moment it wasn't really her concern. She desperately wanted this relationship to work but in a night in which dead people came alive she could forget about her adulthood. She would fix it tomorrow.

"It's time for me to go home. I forgot how tiring being a GangstaBlair was." She smiled again, in a much more convincing way this time.

"Are you staying at the loft? There is no need for you to go back to Manhattan" he told her with a hopeful look. Wrong again, loverboy, home could never be Brooklyn and she wanted to be alone. Wasn't that obvious?

"No, thanks. I want to go home and sleep and forget that there are mansions somewhere with women in white lingerie. How tacky is that?" she tried to put some humor in her answer, she had enough to make up for with him tomorrow.

"Ok, then. Let's get you a cab, Mr Gunn" he smiled and Blair saw that he had understood her mood and he was giving her space. Her loving, caring, understanding boyfriend. When he closed the door of the cab saying "Goodnight, remember that I love you Blair" she tried really hard to find something comforting to say, but the only words her brain seemed to conjure were "That's too bad". Funny how life works sometimes. So she smiled again, waved and hoped that Dan would remember those three little words in the morning.

Alone in the cab, far from the prying eyes of her favorite Brooklynite, her treacherous mind returned to Chuck. Her heart was imploring her to find him because he would need someone, scratch that because he would need her. No, enough, she tried to get her rational powers in order. If he needed her, he would come to her like that fateful night that seemed so far away now. She would find him in her room waiting for the love only she could provide. Sure, it had to be that way. Except, there was a voice in her head saying that she had shunned him away the last time he had wanted to talk, she had told him that they could never be friends, that she would not accept his ruses to get her back. Her rational side reminded her that this morning he had come to her despite her warning. If he really needed her, he would swallow his pride and come knocking. He was Chuck Bass, he had to know that Blair Waldorf was always an option for him. But her mind was overactive now, brimming with contrasting thoughts. What if Chuck had seen the Gossip girl blast, what if he thought that she was in Brooklyn with Dan and that there was no way to reach her? What then? Would he talk to Nate or Serena? She wanted to believe that but her knowledge of Chuck was unparalleled. He would not go to Nate to express his feelings, probably he would tell him what happened but he would never open up with him, not in a night like this, when he was wounded and wanted to protect himself. No, Chuck Bass would not talk to anyone but her and he might think that she was not available. That was the thought that pushed her. She could not live in a world in which ghosts return from the dead and she was not there for him. She simply could not.

"I have changed my mind. We are going to Victrola" she said to the cab driver, sure in that moment that he would be on that roof where he had contemplated jumping and she had to be there to take him off that ledge. She had to be. Her heart sped up at the idea that she might not be enough, that her words did not matter anymore, not when she had said "I love you but that doesn't mean I am in love with you". Tears came streaming down her face, unexpected, unbidden, unwanted. She brushed them away, the cab driver should not see, people at Victrola should not know what she was going through, what Chuck was going through. The cab stopped, and after quickly paying she almost ran to the doors. She needed to know if he was here, she needed to see him. She entered quickly, receiving nods of recognition and asked the bartender if he was here. The bartender was surprised and for a second she thought that she had to keep looking for him but then he nodded "on the roof, as always". Blair might have changed, Chuck might have changed but some truths remained the same. She composed herself before opening the door of the roof. This wasn't about her, it was about him, him and his pain. She found him slouched on the floor, her back to her. When he heard the noise of the door he looked up and in finding her, his eyes could not mask his surprise. Surprise and hurt. Enough hurt to last for years, maybe a lifetime. She started crying again. It was a good thing that Bart was alive after all because it meant that she could kill him all over again, after a long, painful torture. She didn't know what to say, how to make it better. Words seemed inappropriate, too much and not enough so she reached him and hugged him. She brought his head to her chest and started rocking him as if he was a whimpering child and not the billionaire who grew up too fast. She wanted to ask details about Bart, why, how, but she remained silent just listening to the sound of his sobs slowly lessening. When he finally found his voice, a tenuous "thanks" was the first word he uttered. Then a litany of "I'm sorry"

"What are you sorry for?" she asked, genuinely curious while his head was still on her breasts and their eyes were not making contact.

"I know that you wanted me to back off but it seems just one other thing that I am incapable of doing."

Then, before she could retort he had risen up and was using his handkerchief to dry his last tears.

"I'm ok now, you can go. I'll call Arthur and have you bring back to Brooklyn" He had not asked why she had come, he had not questioned how she knew he was here. He didn't need to. They were Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck. No Dan Humphrey in the world could change that fact. But he had distanced himself from her. He was trying to respect the boundaries that she herself had fixed, to not rein her in with his problems. Selfless at a point in which he was allowed to be selfish. She decided to ignore him:

"Have you talked to him? Have you asked him why?"

"Does it matter why? They'll explain with complicated words, they'll throw the catchphrase "I have done it for you", they will try to convince me that in some twisted way I benefited from it. Does it matter? My father faked his death and let me believe for 3 years that he wasn't around anymore. Does the name of the conspiracy matter? It won't change the fact that he must have known through Jack how I was doing, the mistakes I was making, the pain that I was enduring and he did nothing. Nothing. And if he didn't know he didn't want to know. I never thought he could find a way to hurt me even more but he did. Three years of complete and utter indifference cut more deeply than his hate over the preceding 18 years. Now that I know that my mother did not die in childbirth I don't even understand why he hated me so much. But what of it? Will it make me feel better? You told me that Henry Prince was just running away from Chuck Bass. Why should everyone be granted the opportunity to do it but me? Why should I just be stuck with the endless suffering?"

Blair was speechless, increasingly so. She knew he was hurting, she knew how deep his insecurities lied but the amount of desperation contained in those words took her by surprise. She wanted to fix him even if she was partly the cause of that "endless suffering" but her usually quick mind could not think of anything that would make him feel better.

"Have I rendered the great Blair Waldorf speechless? Does he manage to do that? Or is he too busy listening to his own words that he forgets to watch your reaction?"

He was being unfair. Dan was a most attentive boyfriend. How did the conversation shift anyway? They were talking about his grief, how had it ended up being a dialogue about her relationship?

"What am I talking about? It's the umpteenth thing that doesn't matter tonight. It won't change anything, huh Blair? At the end of the day, even if you feel compelled to comfort me, you are in love with him, not me. "

Blair was still silent, she did not know what to say, how not to hurt him further, how to handle his mercurial being when she couldn't just make him shut up with a kiss.

" And do you want to know the most pathetic thing of them all? Tonight is one of the worst night of my life and the only thing I take comfort in is the presence of a woman that has spent the last months of her life turning me away, a woman that I desperately want to forget and instead keeps haunting my dreams and my thoughts. Isn't that tragic, Blair?"

He had pronounced her name with an astonishing depth of feeling, a curse and a blessing at the same time, a plea on those wonderful lips of his. Those five letters broke her. Was she really doing this to him? Had she been so blind?

"I'm sorry, I wish I could find a better way to apologize but I'm sorry"

"You cannot help whom you love Blair. You shouldn't apologize. I am the unworthy one."

Just as the fight had left him it had entered her. She couldn't possibly stand for him calling himself unworthy

"How do you dare to call yourself unworthy? Your father, the brilliant Bart Bass was so taken with himself to forget that at the end of the day it is lonely on top and he lost every single person he loved or pretended to. Your mother left him, maybe even cheated on him with your uncle, Lily never truly loved him and all the other women were paid to stay with him. And he mistreated his incredible son, the only creature that truly tried to please him since day one. He is the unworthy one. Jack, that at a point in time wanted to destroy everything his nephew had built, I don't see anyone genuinely caring for him, do you? He is the unworthy one. Diana Payne that thought it ok to make you believe that she was your mother as if it were a stupid joke one can laugh about with her pals, she is the unworthy one. Your real mother, a woman that not only abandoned her son, but used the first time he saw him again to cheat him out of his hotel. What kind of human being does that? She is the unworthy one. You're right, many people run from Chuck Bass but not because he's unworthy but because they are and they can't admit it. Because they are envious of the man that you have become without help, a bright, witty, handsome young man with an impeccable taste in clothing and in massage oils. "

She noticed that as she was going further Chuck's eyes were brightening, he was watching her with awe and the last comment even brought a smirk to his pained face. But she was on a roll:

"We are going to show them, Chuck. We are going to make all of them face their uselessness, their selfishness, their lack of worth. We are going into this chin up, without tears and with the self-confidence we need. You'll see. You're going to be a sight that they tremble to behold."

"We?"

In that moment Blair realized how dumb she had been. Dan Humphrey was clearly boyfriend material and she would never forget his help during her trying times. But she had been a fool to believe that she could ever be part of a we that did not include Chuck. That passion burning in her, that need to protect him against anything, that necessity of not letting anyone else be his "friend", not even for the night, those feelings could not in any way be replicated with anyone else. She had forgotten that love was not just safety, and enjoyable times. It was fire. And the only man that could set her on fire was standing right next to her.

"We, because I don't want to be the next unworthy one."

His eyes were blackening with lust but the touch of hope in his look made him look serenely happy. It gave her such a high that she could not tolerate the distance anymore. She took his face in her hands and whispered, close to his lips

"We, you and me, Chuck and Blair, Blair and Chuck because anything else is temporary and I was a dimwit for not seeing it before."

She kissed him softly and he responded eagerly, sparks flowing between them as always. He was glued back together and she felt elated, truly and completely Blair Waldorf. Tomorrow she would have to deal with destroying another man's heart, and then help Chuck with the fallout from Bart Bass' reappearance. Tonight, though, she would just enjoy being engulfed by the heat they were releasing.

Because the night is dark and full of terrors but the fire burns them all away.


End file.
